I saw my father in a different light
three months before the Lord would call his name.
This man was different from the one I knew,
his faith was overflowing, not the same.

He spoke of God quite often, with a smile.
Displayed a joy I'd never seen before.
Although he now was fighting for his life,
at times it seemed he longed for Heaven's door.

He had no fear of what his journey held
and said his battle here was win or win.
He'd stay upon this earth and testify
or find that life with Jesus would begin.

I think it's life with Jesus he preferred,
and maybe prayers were answered, just not mine,
for in his life a miracle occurred;
he now was walking one with the Divine.

I asked him once, "What happens if you die
to all the people praying for a cure?
Would life move on for them without a thought,
or would their faith be damaged, not endure?"

He seemed to feel that life would just move on,
but he was wrong, for my own faith has waned.
I felt so sure my dad would be around
that now I'm lost, my spirit has been drained

of all belief in "Miracles are real".
So now I search for answers I can't find,
and maybe answers here cannot be found.
Perhaps, it's just the way He tests mankind,

to see if faith prevails where sorrows dwell.
I think of how He must have felt that day
His son was hanging on that rugged cross.
The gift He gave that day I can't repay,

so who am I to question my own loss?
I know I must keep walking on the road
that leads me to that place where my dad waits
with open arms of love that can't erode

through time or death...Eternal love awaits!

Author Notes

Something I just needed to release. I can't believe my Dad has been gone a year already.